The Worst Hangover Ever
by Phr Lt Nkkd
Summary: Jak II, AU. Being in a rock band, you would assume you would have it good, right? Well, not many people consider the emotional faults that go with it. WARNING: CONTAINS HOMOSEXUAL THEMES! JakTornErol [Ch. 4 outta 6 completed]
1. Neocon

Jak II, AU. Being in a rock band, you would assume you would have it good, right? Well, not many people consider the emotional faults that go with it. **WARNING: ::CONTAINS HOMOSEXUAL THEMES, YAOI, SLASH AND ALL THAT GOOD STUFF! YOU NO LIKE? THE "BACK" BUTTON AWAITS!::**

**Vocals, Guitar: **Torn

**Guitar, Vocals: **Sig

**Bass, Vocals: **Erol

**Drums: **Jak

**Lyrics written by: **Torn, Sig, Erol

~*~The Worst Hangover Ever~*~

Another successful show! The crowd was on its feet moshing to the beat and screams of Neocon, the newbie band out of nowhere. 

**[-****The darkness of which binds me,  
  
closes in tighter.   
  
I can no longer breathe,   
  
cannot see, and cannot hear.  
  
I cannot even smell the night air around me.-]**

Torn and Sig screamed into the microphone in unison, in low, guttural voices. Jak sat behind them pounding away at his Yamaha drums, setting the pace with the bass, hitting the crash cymbal so hard it was heard well over the noise of the three guitars. Erol was jumping around in the background, strumming away on his bass, getting the crowd to move. 

**[-****No longer can I reign control   
  
over the anger that keeps me alive.  
  
That white-hot rage fuels my life force.  
  
Only with this promise of revenge,   
  
do I continue on with pointless existence.-]**

This time, Erol joined in for the raging chorus. He sang a low pitch to the upbeat voices of the two other guitarists. It created a perfect harmony. The drumming stopped.

**[-****No longer do I control my own destiny,  
  
another hand guides me,  
  
pushes me on,  
  
and makes my decisions.  
  
It is not fair.-]**

Jak started up again; this time hitting the beat so fast, it rivaled Offspring itself. Sig and Torn jumped away from the microphone and began their part for the interlude. Letting Sig take the lead rifts for a few moments, the redhead pulled the strap over his head that held his guitar in place. He then picked up where the Wastelander left off so Sig could do the same. 

When Jak began a soft beat on the bass and began a roll alternating on the toms and snare, Torn and Sig each threw their guitars at each other, then ran over to Erol and began a pantomime of seeing who should get what instrument. The hi-hat came in along with soft hits of the crash cymbal. The trio finally "decided" who got what, and returned to their original places. However, Torn had the bass, Sig had Torn's guitar, and Erol had Sig's guitar. 

**[-****No longer can I reign control   
  
over the anger that keeps me alive.  
  
That white-hot rage fuels my life force.  
  
Only with this promise of revenge,   
  
do I continue on with pointless existence.-]**

The screaming took on a surprising crescendo, the fans screaming right along with them. Neocon took the beat up a notch, now screaming and playing faster and Jak himself screamed the chorus while setting an easy pace with the bass and snare so he could concentrate on the words.

  
**[-Why should I consent to be the puppet of another?  
  
No more.  
  
With these final parting words,  
  
I cut the strings binding me to you-]**

The moment "you" was uttered, he sat down quickly and sped up. There was another –quicker—interlude where all the instruments were switched back to their original owners, before the end of the song commenced. 

**[-****No longer can I reign control   
  
over the anger that keeps me alive.  
  
That white-hot rage fuels my life force.  
  
Only with this promise of revenge,   
  
do I continue on with pointless existence.-]**

Instead of screaming, Sig and Torn tuned down their playing to a mellifluous melody and let the bass continue playing…it wasn't that loud anyway. Jak started a decrescendo, which led to a fade out of the chorus, the final chords struck, and their show over. 

Getting up from behind his prized drum set, Jak walked across the stage to stand between Erol and Sig while the aforementioned man and Torn issued thanks, before walking offstage. 

Torn took a swig of his water and sat down, wiping his mouth and brow. Straight-backed, Erol walked over to him and slapped his buddy a high five.

"Dude, that's probably our best show yet!" he declared grinning from ear to ear. Sig nodded in agreement. "Yeah, until The Metal Heads get out there. The crowd will go wild," he shook his head. "Man, what is it with those guys? They're assholes through and through, but the fans love them? Where's our love?"

Snickering slightly, Jak pulled off his blue shirt, revealing tightened and toned, tanned muscles. Erol and Torn almost drooled. "I think it's _you _that doesn't get enough "love". Me, Torn and Erol get enough. We're the best looking guys in the group. They think you're just gay." He sighed dramatically and flopped down next to Torn, laying his head on the redhead's stomach, throwing his shirt into Sig's face at the same time. 

"Aw, someone pop his ego for me!" the dark man laughed and through the sweaty cloth back at Jak, missing and hitting Torn. The guitarist made no motion to move. Erol streaked over to Jak, jumped on his stomach with a loud "_POP_" shout. 

"There, his ego's popped." 

Jak got up and ran his hands over his body, gasping every now and then. "No! Not my ego! There went my confidence! I'm…small…" he collapsed to his knees, fake crying, then "fainted". Neocon laughed. 

"Is it time to go, yet? I'm beat," came the muffled rasp of Torn from underneath the blue shirt. Sig walked over and pulled the shirt off, putting his ear right next to Torn's mouth.

"**I'M SORRY, WHAT WAS THAT? I COULDN'T HEAR YOU BECAUSE JAK'S OVERSIZED EGO MADE HIS SHIRT MUFFLE THE SOUND OF YOUR VOICE!**"

Torn visibly winced and growled. The blonde on the floor got up for a moment, said "I resent that!", remembered he was supposed to be unconscious and fell to the floor again. 

"Aw, get up already, man!" Sig laughed as he helped a grinning Jak to his feet. 

"Alright, alright. Great show—"

The door behind them banged open and in strode the assistant manager of the place.

"Sorry boys, we need this room. You're going to have to clear out for the Metal Heads." The hovering faces of a smug Kor,  "Baron" Praxis, Ashelin and Daxter smirked at them from behind the disheveled man. Torn glared.

"We were here first, why do we have to leave to make room for these losers?" he growled. The assistant took a step forward, ready to give a smart-ass retort, when Ashelin pushed passed him.

"Us "losers" are about to have the biggest show of all time and we need this room to rest before we go on. Now you amateurs clear out and bow down to the real stars." Torn snarled and made to leap for the Metal Heads, but was restrained by Sig.

"C'mon man, it's not worth it. Don't let 'em get to you. Let's just go," he whispered. Still wearing the glare, Torn nodded and gestured to the rest of Neocon. Scowling, the other two picked up their stuff and walked out of the room, but not before shoving past the Metal Heads rudely; Jak landing a well aimed lugy in Daxter's Mohawk. Snickering, the other heavy metal band watched the retreating backs with glee. 

**[=3]**

"Can you fucking **believe** that!" there was a loud _crack_ and the side of the tour bus was dented. Erol placed a hand on Jak's shoulder and steered him away from the metal, and onto the bus. 

"Calm down, Jak. We need our bus," Torn muttered following the duo into the vehicle, where Sig was already waiting, guzzling a beer. 

Vin came running in a few minutes later, bruises forming on his pale face. Without saying a word, he jumped behind the wheel, started it up, and jerked away. Torn, Erol and Sig were thrown to the floor violently whilst Jak clung to the edge of the top bed for dear life. Only when they were cruising along at a comfortable speed, did he dare to let go. He dropped to the floor, pushed aside the curtain and sat in the passenger seat.

"What happened, Vin?" he asked eying the black and blue marks across the manager's face. The white-haired man laughed nervously and pulled a face.

"I step out of the freakin' bathroom and get jumped by those Metal Heads! They just started pounding the living daylights outta me! What'd you do to piss 'em off, Jak?" Vin stuttered in one quick breath. The blonde man stuck his tongue out at his manager and walked back to Neocon. 

Sig was sitting there staring into space, beer in hand. He was purposely ignoring Torn and Erol. Jak could see why.

Erol was sitting—no _straddling_—Torn's lap. He had his face pressed close to the other man's and was whispering something (that Jak really didn't want to hear). It must have comforted Torn, however, because the man smiled slightly and kissed Erol. 

Jealousy flared up through Jak, though he did his best to ignore it. Erol and Torn had been together since the band formed, it was no different today; so why was he so jealous? He had no feelings for either guitarist. Making a face at himself internally, Jak went to the little refrigerator next to the pantry. 

Neocon's tour bus was fairly large, with several compartments on the side for the drum set, guitars, amps, and anything else the band needed to use it for. The interior was colored the same as the exterior: a dull silver. When you stepped inside, to your right was a couch. A little in front of that was a television with a DVD player, cable box and a VCR built right in. It was sitting on a little wood chest. To the left of that, there was a table you could sit at, and above was Jak's bed. 

Looking to your left, you would see the sink, fridge, and pantry. The bathroom lay a bit farther on, along with two beds on opposite sides of the little "hallway". One was where Sig slept, the other was for Erol and Torn. The very back was a closet. It was modeled after a camper, but was a hell of a lot bigger. 

Casting another look at the couple sitting in front of an oblivious Sig, he saw Torn's hands making their way up Erol's shirt. Jealousy hit him again and Jak stalked passed them and climbed up to his bed. 

"Get a room," he growled before yanking the curtains shut, concealing him from view. 

Parting from their heated kiss, Erol turned around and looked at the closed area that lead to Jak's bed. Torn paused, too. He nibbled on his lover's bottom lip.

"Wonder what crawled up his ass?" he mused out loud. Erol snickered. 

"I think you mean: what _HASN'T_ crawled up his ass." 

"Mmm. I wouldn't mind _changing_ that…" 

Erol shifted in his lap, gripping Torn's neck a bit tighter.

"Sure, why not?" 

**[-_-]**

To say Jak was pissed off would be an understatement. If it was possible, steam would be billowing out of his ears in clouds, and his face would be redder than a tomato. And to make matters worse, he had no idea why he was feeling this way. 

When Erol and Torn had first gotten together, he was pretty nonchalant. He didn't care about them being together, or his own status. But lately, he'd been more apt to getting jealous whenever those two started making out in the open. Well, jealous and horny. Sometimes, when Jak woke from a dream (most of the time he couldn't remember what they were about) his leggings created a nice sized tent. When he got up in the mornings, he was always first to the shower. It embarrassed him, because he did have a vague idea of whom he was dreaming about, though he wouldn't admit it. The blonde was pretty pure, having never been touched, by himself or anyone else. 

Jak settled himself back onto his pillows, hands behind his head, legs crossed in the air. His mind was swirling with unanswered questions so he didn't even realize when he drifted off into a doze.

He awoke a few hours later to complete quiet. Stretching, he got up and crawled out of bed, missed a step and fell to the floor with a loud _thump! _

"Ooh…" he murmured putting a hand to his forehead. His vision was still slightly blurred with sleep. Grimacing, he got up rubbing his ass. "Fuck a duck." 

That was when he was tackled to the floor. 

"What in the…?" he looked up to see Torn's shadowy face grinning down at him. The redhead slowly got closer until his face was mere centimeters from Jak's.

"Well, what do we have here?" he breathed, hot air sending shivers down Jak's spine. "Jak, and he's all alone with no one to protect him."

Looking at him with half-lidded eyes, Torn closed the gap between them and tentatively attached his lips to Jak's. When said man didn't pull away, he got braver and deepened the kiss, tongue granted permission into the blonde's mouth.

Why? Why did this feel so good? He had never let anyone touch him before. He was so scared of romantic relations, yet he was letting Torn kiss him, touch him and…whoa. Torn's hands were up his shirt, who's hands were gliding up his legs…? Oh, who else?

Erol's face came into view. He settled his head on his lover's shoulder and looked at Jak with that same feral look Torn was giving him. 

"Now, now. You don't get him all to yourself, Torn. Isn't that what was agreed upon?" Erol whispered, loud enough for Jak to hear. The other red head let out what sounded like a mixture between a growl and sigh, and detached himself from the blonde. 

"I was hoping you'd forget that…" Erol smirked and pressed a light kiss to Torn's cheek.

Jak lay there in a stupor. What had that been about? His cheeks were slightly flushed and his eyes partially glazed, giving him that ethereal, I-just-stepped-out-of-a-hot-shower kind of look. Needless to say it was damn sexy. Erol reached out and caressed the blondes face, cupping the crook of the jaw. Jak 'mmed' slightly into the touch. Why was he letting these two men touch him? He didn't really want it…did he?

Twisting past Torn, the other redhead placed his hands on either side of drummer and leaned close. Jak's bright blue eyes started into Erol's listlessly, not really seeing. 

"Mm, Jak. We've wanted you for so long…" the lead guitarist nodded in agreement, one hand weaving its way up through Jak's tattoos. The nosey ligament found its way to the hem of his sweatpants, playing with the string and lightly brushing against the hardness growing there. Torn leaned in and nipped at his neck, ignoring the breathy moans coming from the man beneath him. 

Writing in the pleasure and occasional pain that Torn and Erol were giving him, Jak gave up trying to listen to the voices that said **"this is wrong"**, and gave into the two guitarists above him. 

Hesitantly, the blonde grasped Erol's neck, bringing him in slowly for a kiss. The shorter redhead complied, giving Jak a chaste taste of his lips, before letting the drummer have complete access to his mouth. The bassist moaned loudly at the feel of Jak's tongue delving into his mouth. The way he moved, it was almost as if he were experienced in the area—though the man had insisted he was a complete virgin.

"_Wow…_" Erol whispered as he pulled away, looking at an indignant Torn. "He's almost better than you. …almost." The lead guitarist glared and mock-pouted, moving off of Jak to help him up. He was grateful for it, and helped up quickly. 

"We need someplace to do this that's big enough for three people." Torn stated, holding Jak to him, tightly. Erol nodded.

"My bed…" Jak mumbled against Torn's bare chest. Looking down, he saw the blonde was blushing.

"Aw, is little Jakie a bit horny?" 

Laughing quietly, Neocon's lead vocalist pulled Jak by the hand up into the somewhat spacious top bed, leaving Erol to follow, staring at Jak's ass.

"Your bed is comfy. I can't believe we didn't think of this sooner," Erol chuckled, but got serious fast. "Jak," he spoke in said man's ear, warm breath caressing the inner part lovingly. Jak looked into Erol's eyes as Torn held him. "You don't have to do this. We will only do this if you want us to, regardless of what we want, understand?" 

The blonde was silent for a few moments before giving them a small smile. He reached out and touched Erol's cheek, reached back to hold Torn's neck, reassuring them.

"I think this'll be fun."

**[O_O]**

And that is the end of The Worst Hangover Ever! But before we close entirely, we do have a few disclaimers to give out.

First, the song titles** "The Worst Hangover Ever"** and **"Neocon"** belong to the wonderful **Offspring**! **"Jak II" **belongs to **Naughty Dog**. We own none of them, and are making zero cash, regardless of what we believe ^.^; the lyrics used in this are our own titled **"No Strings Attached"**. 

Well, I think that's it. Please read and review, it keeps us going! Flames are accepted, but be warned: They will be _laughed at_ and made an example of. The warnings are **_clearly stated _**in the summary, and it's not our fault if you don't heed our warnings. ^_^__


	2. ExLax and Waterfalls? Oh, my!

Jak II, AU. Being in a rock band, you would assume you would have it good, right? Well, not many people consider the emotional faults that go with it. **WARNING: ::CONTAINS HOMOSEXUAL THEMES, YAOI, SLASH AND ALL THAT GOOD STUFF! YOU NO LIKE? THE "BACK" BUTTON AWAITS!::**

**Vocals, Guitar: **Torn

**Guitar, Vocals: **Sig

**Bass, Vocals: **Erol

**Drums: **Jak

**Lyrics written by: **Torn, Sig, Erol

~*~The Worst Hangover Ever~*~

When Jak came to the next morning, the first thing he noticed was a soreness up and down his back and in his legs. The second thing, was heavy warmth. He didn't remember his blankets being _that_ warm. Only when one of them moved did he recall what it was. 

Rolling over to the left, he snuggled deeper in the cascading warmth radiating from the muscled body. He feigned sleep to see what would happen. It was wonderful being sandwiched between the two guitarists. Despite being without blankets, and only a long shirt on, Jak was extremely warm.

Torn opened his eyes slowly, wanting to know why he felt so good. What he first noticed, was blonde hair tinted slightly green. He smiled knowingly, thinking about how good Jak felt writing against him last night, the sweet taste of his body and the ecstasy etched into his face so purely. His first time, and he hoped him and Erol made it a worth his while. Groaning slightly, the redhead moved over to look down on the sleeping faces of his two lovers.

Erol was always a rock-hard sleeper, never getting up before his internal alarm clock went off. Jak…well…he wasn't sure about him, but he looked somewhat conscious. 

He sat up and smiled again. He felt like he didn't deserve two such wonderful partners as he had. But then again, he wasn't sure Jak would want it a second time. Torn was hopeful, however. Jak and Erol meant everything to him, emotionally. 

The redhead finally made it to his destination: the bathroom.  Relieving himself, he walked back to the little dining area and sat down, peering out the open window at the sunrise. He basked in the glowing rays that hit his face with relish. He felt like the pink and yellow and purple colors were there especially for him. Torn smiled slightly and sighed. What he wouldn't give to be out there at that moment, feeling the first kisses of the warm rays. 

Neocon's bassist came down a few minutes later, yawing and half-awake. 

"Why're you up so early?"

"I l-l-lost my warmth…"

"Sorry."

"No, J-J-J-Jak rol-l-l-led over."

At this, Torn had to laugh. Erol woke up at the slightest things when he wanted to. Containing his laugh into a gentle smile, the early bird grasped the other redhead's calloused hand and pulled him into a warm embrace. Purring like a content cat, Erol curled up and closed his eyes, falling asleep nearly instantly. 

Erol's hair was so silky smooth, despite it's coarse appearance. Torn stroked his lover's head softly as he waited for the other one to wake. Though he was pretty sure Jak was already up. Yawning himself, Torn lay back against the cool glass material and shut his eyes, clutching Erol close. Maybe he would sleep for a few moments…

**[=|]**

Jak rolled over in the now empty bed and sighed. Last night had been…indescribable in more ways than one. The two redheads were impeccable in their skills of lovemaking. So skilled, it left him wanting more. He wanted more of both of them, and it scared him. He knew he loved both of them…but in what way? He smiled softly, recalling the touches, whispers, and sounds exchanged between the three last night. It left him tingling.

What should he do? The smile was replaced with a frown as he contemplated different ideas that roved through his head. 

Act like nothing happened? Confront them about it? Leave it alone? Let it continue? God, did Jak wish it were that simple. He wanted it to continue, most definitely, but he was afraid of the repercussions. 

The smell of bacon wafted in through the curtains, making his mouth water. Well, problem solving could wait until later. Right now it was breakfast time. He clambered out of bed swifter than his mind could add two plus two and was sitting at the table when Sig put down the plate of bacon and buttered toast in front of him. Eyes going wide like a small child, Jak dug in, all thoughts of last night fleeing his mind in an instant. 

"Hungry, are we?" came a small, tired voice from in front of him. Startled, Jak looked up quickly to see Torn staring at him in amusement.

"And so what if I am?" he answered, finally swallowing that piece of toast that made him choke a few minutes earlier. Torn shrugged delicately and picked up a bit of egg that the Wastelander made for him. He put it on the edge of his lips and let his tongue slowly snake out to pull it into his mouth. Jak watched with rapt attention, before remembering where he was. Blushing furiously, the blonde returned to his bacon with hopes of finishing it. They were dampened by a tattooed are reaching out and scooping them up. 

"Erol! I was gonna eat that! Bastard!" Jak crossed his arms and pouted. The bassist raised an eyebrow and went back to consuming what was left of the drummer's food. _That pouty look is going to be the end of me…_ Erol mused to himself, chewing thoughtfully on the crunchy piece of pork.

Sig sighed and sat down.  

"You guys were awfully quiet last night. What? Did the thought of the Metal Heads  get ya down?" he sniggered slightly at his little joke.

Torn shrugged again. "The show kind of tired us out. We were asleep before we knew it. Sorry, did we keep you up?" this time, Jak and Erol snickered at the crack. Sig knew when he was beaten in a battle of wits and raised his hands in defeat. 

"All right, all right. Where's Vin?" the nervous manager was nowhere to be found and he was usually the one to get everyone else up.

"Haven't seen him yet," Torn said, gazing out the window as if to find the man out there being chased by rabbits. 

"Hope he didn't go too far," the blonde whispered, letting his insecurities speak for themselves. Erol reached over and patted Jak on the back. A mere reassuring gesture? That's what Jak _tried _to tell his loins, but did they listen? Oh, no, never. Sputtering slightly inwards, Neocon's drummer rose quickly from the table and almost ran to the bathroom. 

"What was that about?" Sig asked, completely clueless to the feral grins the redheads were exchanging. 

"Maybe he's got diarrhea? Did you put ex-lax in his toast _again, _Sig?" the taller redhead grinned as the dark man threw a sharp look at him. 

"I told you I only did that once. And DON'T let him find out…or I'll tell him who took his Misfit's CD and scratched it." Torn scowled, but immediately backed off. Erol let out a shuddering laugh.

"T-t-that was _you _who gave him the runs? He had that shit for at least three days…all puns possible intended!" 

Sig's eyes widened as he felt a swift sigh of air whiz above him. Torn and Erol stopped and turned, too. The ex-lax victim stood behind the trio, eyes dangerously narrowed to mere slits. He had a wicked, sadistic grin on his face as he glared down at them. Coughing, Erol immediately went from Lap Dog to Someone-Help-Me-He's-Gone-Mad!. Nodding curtly at the other redhead (whom would inevitably get back at Erol for this traitorous act), he dashed up to Jak's bed. 

"Heh, heh, heh…" 

Glancing at each other for a nanosecond, the two guitarists screamed and made to jump over the table, but Jak was too quick. Grabbing them each by the collar, he dragged them back and seated them on the couch next to the sink. He grinned evilly at them and turned the water on full force, and just let it run. He then walked over to the bathroom door and held it wide open, revealing the toilet. Then, Jak snatched some rope out of the upper cabinet and tied Torn's hands behind his back and his feet in such a way that he could only sit cross-legged; he did the same to Sig. Still with that evil grin on his face, Jak sat at the television and turned it on to the Discovery Channel, which was doing a documentary on "famous waterfalls around the world."  

And so he sat, wanting to know which of the two men would succumb first and beg on his knees for forgiveness. After all, they both had a few cups of coffee this morning, and haven't been to the bathroom, yet. It was only a matter of time… 

**[o_o]**

Next up: Find out what happens to Sig and Torn! Where did Vin go? Was he kidnapped by the Metal Heads? Will Erol get his? What about Jak? What lengths will he go to exact his revenge? Is the author stark raving mad? Do you like blueberries? All this and more, in the next installment of: The Worst Hangover ever!

Please leave a review! Thank you to everyone who reviewed my last chapter =)


	3. Hope I'm Not Interupting

Jak II, AU. Being in a rock band, you would assume you would have it good, right? Well, not many people consider the emotional faults that go with it. **WARNING: ::CONTAINS HOMOSEXUAL THEMES, YAOI, SLASH AND ALL THAT GOOD STUFF! YOU NO LIKE? THE "BACK" BUTTON AWAITS!::**

**Vocals, Guitar: **Torn

**Guitar, Vocals: **Sig

**Bass, Vocals: **Erol

**Drums: **Jak

**Lyrics written by: **Torn, Sig, Erol

The Worst Hangover Ever

_ Drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip…_

Jak had finally gotten annoyed at the constant rush of water from the tap, so he turned it down to a steady drip. The waterfall show was still on; being a three-hour marathon, so the sadistic blonde sat there and sat and sat and sat and sat…no one was budging. Sig and Torn sat there in the ropes, staring ahead monotonely. There was an unseen battle going on between the three, and neither side was willing to give in.

Eventually, it wore down to the point where Erol had to come down to examine the situation. Slowly, he poked his head out of the hole-in-the wall that was Jak's bed (careful to avoid damaging his beautiful lyberty spikes) and cautiously climbed down the ladder—just in case the whole rope thing was a ruse to lure him into a well-set trap. He stared down at the blonde who was watching the television show with obvious forced interest. Coughing slightly, the redhead looked from one lover to the other, to Sig. Now, he was confused.

"Jak, uh, yeah, what are you planning to do with them? Rape them?"

Casting a look at Torn, whose eyes widened in return, Jak shook his head.

"Haven't decided yet," he answered, watching the forlorn and pissed off look Torn threw at the floor with glee. Sig snored loudly and fell to his side next to his fellow guitarist. _Now would be the perfect time for revenge…_Erol thought with a hint of sadism.

He smirked slightly and clambered into Jak's lap, straddling his waist teasingly. He ran his hands through the golden locks and stared into the endless sea of blue.

"I wouldn't mind getting raped myself, ya know…" he trailed off into a whisper, letting his tongue roam about the edges of Jak's jaw, his voice thick with lust and humor. Jak, picking up on the message Erol was trying to silently send him, titled his head to the side, giving Erol better access.

Vin chose that moment to burst in, loudly.

"Hey, guys! I got us a gig and…uh…am I interrupting anything?" his aging face, pulled taut by constant fear, took in the sight before him. Sig lying on the couch, asleep, Torn beside him, a surly pout on his face, both tied up. The bassist in the drummers lap, mouth poised just above Jak's own. The lead guitarist looked over at their manager hopefully, but the white-haired man ignored him completely. He was too busy staring at the position Jak and Erol were in.

Erol sighed. He hated being interrupted. Now he had a painful boner and nothing to do about it. Reluctantly he climbed down off of Jak, praying his long nightshirt would cover the embarrassing protuberance.

"Nah, we weren't doin' nothin'. Where'd ya get us a gig?"

Behind him, Jak crossed his arms and set a dark glare at Vin that clearly stated: 'don't listen to that liar. You did interrupt us.' Nervously wringing his hands, Vin shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly getting the message.

"We play tonight at the Naughty Ottsel. So…yeah…um…go back to whatever you were doing…" he yelped a bit and scampered off to the front of the bus. Neocon heard the jingle of keys and then the revving of the engine. The occupants of the bus were thrown backwards with the sudden motion, Jak getting cast all the way into the open bathroom, where—by some convenient plot hole—it shut and locked him inside.

As the bus jolted along at seventy-five some odd miles per hour, the confusion in the back was slowly sorted out: Torn and Sig were removed from their bindings and gags (Sig recollecting nearly none of it), and it was established that no one could get Jak out of the bathroom.

"It must be some sort of retribution for leaving us tied up like that," Torn mentioned in a loud voice, rubbing his ankles. "You know, like when a God doesn't like something a mortal does, he kills it." Erol jammed his bony elbow into Torn's side.

"Jak's claustrophobic, remember?" he whispered harshly. The dark man beside them looked from the wooden bathroom door to his gun, and back again. Torn, catching the look, threw Sig a dirty glare.

"It was just an idea…" he mumbled, throwing his hands up in defeat. He sighed and shut his green eyes, scratching his nearly bald head. "So what do you suggest we do to get him out of there?"

Torn looked at Erol and Erol looked at Torn. Neither one had any ideas. They all looked at the door.

"I guess we just wait until the lock pops open itself…"

Inside, Jak was huddled in the shower, curtain pulled. Ever since he was a little boy and had been locked in a closet by his father whenever he was in trouble, had stemmed a long line of unwanted fear of small, dark places. When he was alone in places like these, he always thought he could hear things. People talking, things moving, claws scraping, and ghastly beings coming for him. He knew the paranoia was silly, but he couldn't help it; it didn't help that he had an overactive imagination.

He started when he heard something skitter over by his leg. He moved unconsciously to the corner, arms still around his legs. The whole situation might have been better if Jinx, his Crocadog had been there. Since he wasn't Jak took to holding his breath and whispering to himself that everything was going to be all right.

Something thumped against the sink and he pulled in closer to himself, shivering. His breath started coming quicker and quicker as he felt, more than saw, footsteps coming closer and closer to the shower. As he looked up in horror, clear blue eyes wavering on the brink of tears, on the edge of hyperventilation, the shower curtain began to push itself aside.

Author's Notes: Well, this certainly took a long to get out. For a while, we had left it, feeling really deflated about this story, but just recently picked it up on a streak of creativity. Hope you liked the chapter, sorry it was so short. The last of the chapters will be longer than this, as we now have more ideas. Please leave a review, if you deign we deserve it =);


	4. My Other Side

Jak II, AU. Being in a rock band, you would assume you would have it good, right? Well, not many people consider the emotional faults that go with it. **WARNING: ::CONTAINS HOMOSEXUAL THEMES, YAOI, SLASH AND ALL THAT GOOD STUFF! YOU NO LIKE? THE "BACK" BUTTON AWAITS!::**

**Vocals, Guitar: **Torn

**Guitar, Vocals: **Sig

**Bass, Vocals: **Erol

**Drums: **Jak

**Lyrics written by: **Torn, Sig, Erol

The Worst Hangover Ever

He felt the suffocating darkness press in close and close, trying to wrap its icy fingers securely around his neck. Within the next five seconds, his breathing had increased dramatically to the point of passing out. His head spun in circles and his eyes couldn't focus. Whatever was moving the shower curtain aside was doing it painstakingly slow, reveling in Jak's panic. Sweat broke out on the back of his neck and his forehead.

"Please…go away…leave me alone!" he pleaded with the darkness. Something cackled evilly within in his head.

'I'll never go away, Jak. I'm a part of you. You'll never get rid of me!'

Tears sprang forth as his hair was matted down with sweat. He couldn't breathe.

Monstrous creatures danced around him, waving sporks and knives. They were all furry and had horns and big, gnashing teeth. Finally, the shower curtain was parted, revealing a purple skinned monster that looked a lot like Jak. He wore the same blue tunic, pale white pants, brown, tattered leather boots, and hair, only purple. The face was malicious, with blank black eyes that didn't shine, even in the most meager of lights. Twin black horns wound their way out of the light purple hair as electricity shot and danced across its body. Fangs and nails worse than the monsters dancing around him came exceedingly close to Jak's sweaty face. As Jak stared on in horror, the thing moved closer, tearing the plastic curtain as he went.

"Get…away…from…me!" Jak wailed, trying to scoot farther back into the tub.

Clawed, purple hands ignored the pleas and reached forward and stroked the tan face in front of him, gently, almost lovingly. Blood dripped down from miniscule cuts on his cheeks and chin from where the razor sharp nails had cut into him with little or no effort.

'Oh, but Jak, beautiful, lost Jak; I can't help but torture you. You are just so venerable and alone…' it whispered, grazing teeth against Jak's ear. The blonde winced as he felt them sever some of his skin.

He was losing it…his shirt clung tightly to his back and his body went slack and he fell into unconsciousness from the lack of air.

'Meh heh heh heh…'

Outside, the remaining band members twitched as they heard Jak's pitiful cries. They had to get in there quickly, otherwise Jak might end up killing himself with hyperventilation. Not something they wanted on their conscience. They had tried to break down the door—but now they cursed themselves for having fixed the bolts better than they were before (after Erol had been thrown through the bathroom door by Sig for a very risqué comment, the needed to get it fixed in case it happened again).

"Jak, can you hear us? Jak!" Torn pounded on the door again. The voice of his drummer was getting more panicked as time wore on.

"Dammit! If we don't get the kid out now, he's going to die!" Sig moaned into his palms. He hadn't known the blonde drummer for more than two years, but he thought of him as a little brother. Next to Vin, Sig was the father figure for the three immature brats, just out of their teen years.

"Why don't we ask Vin? Maybe he'll have an idea…" Erol scuttled off the front of the van, trying hard not to fall over as the wheels hit bumps and potholes along its perilous journey.

The blood colored-haired guitarist sighed and turned towards the door, just in time to hear it _snick_ open. He gasped in delight and rushed towards the opening door, only to be shoved aside by his dark-skinned guitarist.

"Jak? Jak! Are you okay? Answer me, cherry!"

"Hey, guys! Vin said we should try to…oh, nevermind, then…" Erol paused upon his return and looked sheepishly at Torn, who was glaring from his spot on the floor. He ran to the door when Sig emerged carrying a shivering blonde in his arms. "Jak! God, is he okay?!" the bassist was nudged aside as Sig made his way to the couch and set his drummer down gently.

Jak's hair was matted down and plastered to his face like he had just finished a concert. The blonde-green unruly locks reached past his shoulders. He was shivering like mad, as if freezing cold (though the thermostat read 87 degrees) and he was mumbling under his breath, and mysterious scratches were spreading across his face, neck and ears.

"Oh, Jesus! Torn, go get me a wet paper towel and a dry one!" Sig ordered sternly as more and more began to appear, some deeper than others. Worry lines creased his broad forehead and Torn handed him a wet cloth. Slowly he began wiping any blood away while Erol tried to get Jak to wake up and calm down. Torn stood uncomfortably to the side, waiting for Papa Sig to give him instructions. The blood flow began to staunch under the guitarists' careful scrutiny. Jak's breathing began to slow as Erol continued to whisper gently in his ear.

"C'mon, Jak, baby. Wake up. Nothing's there. Torn and I are here, we're not going to let anything harm you. Calm down, babe, we're right here. Open your eyes. C'mon Jak…"

"Well, the bleeding stopped," Sig announced with some flourish. Jak was now sleeping somewhat peacefully in the arms of the orange-haired bassist. Torn came around behind Sig and pulled Erol into something of an awkward hug from his kneeling position on the floor. Patting his head, the redhead left a swift kiss on his lover's cheek and walked off to the front of the bus, leaving the bassist and guitarist to tend for their drummer. "Erol, go get me a blanket so we can let him sleep comfortably." Lifting Jak's head up gently, like one would a baby, he placed a fluffy white pillow from his bed a few feet above behind his head, successfully propping him up the way the blonde usually slept. Erol returned a few moments later with the black and blue blanket from Jak's bed behind the table. The man covered Jak up and slid a chair around to the small couch. He was going to sit there until the blonde awoke.

Up front, Vin was bitching and moaning to Torn about the condition of the band to play that night at the Naughty Ottsel. He was worried that Jak wouldn't be up to it, that Sig would drown his worries in alcohol like he usually did, and that Torn and Erol would try to sneak away into a broom closet before the show began, lose track of time and Neocon would be a no-show to a sold out show! Thank God that they were on an open stretch of road, because Vin was swerving every which way as he gestured wildly to Torn. The said man rolled his eyes and fidgeted with his seatbelt, wondering vaguely if it would be enough to stop him from flying forward if Vin lost complete control.

"Don't worry about it, Vin-buddy!" Torn reassured in an effort to keep their manager calm. The calloused fingers that were idly toying the ejector button of his seatbelt were getting ready to shove themselves down Vin's throat and strangle him the wrong way with a length of his guitar string. "We'll be ready. Jak's already recovering. Sig hasn't touched booze in over three days and Erol…well…we'll stay out of any broom closets. Though I can't exactly guarantee the bathrooms will remain clean…" he shouted loudly when Vin jerked the steering wheel hard to the left, nearly sending them off the road. "Wai! Vin! Watch where the hell your driving! I was kidding!" pressing the button on his seatbelt, the redhead jumped out of the passenger seat, stumbled up the steps and launched himself through the curtain separating the cab from the rest of the bus, only to skid to a stop underneath Erol's waiting chair.

The orange-haired man peered down underneath the wooden chair, looking weirdly at his lover. "Having a little bit of pre-show fun, are we?"

"Vin's gone crazy…" Torn muttered, pushing a strand of his blood-colored dreadlocks out of his face. Then he looked at where his head was, where Erol was, _how_ Erol's legs were positioned, and **damn** that chair for being in the way!

"Yeah, well…he was always crazy," Erol sniggered. Reaching down between his legs, he stroked Torn's silky locks gently. He smiled when he felt Torn lay his head down and mutter: "damn senile cripples…" Vin had raised Torn since he was a little boy and lost his parents in a freak government-related accident. That was the reason why the white-haired manager was so skittish: Vin had a feeling that the government dorks who killed Torn's parents would come after Torn to finish the job. After living with the man for fourteen years or so, the nature of suspicion had rubbed off on his non-biological son. Granted, Torn had already been suspicious of people's motives, but that was nothing compared to where Vin got him.

Three years. Three long years Erol wooed Torn. It was a slow, delicate process, with Torn's issue with people and all. There had been moments when the orange-haired bassist had almost given up. Sometimes, at night, when he clutched the smaller man to his chest, Erol wondered why he had persevered. Not that he was complaining, of course.

Getting together with Torn just kind of…happened. One minute they were sitting there tuning their guitars and the next they were on the floor by Erol's amp making out. After that, the band was formed.

Continuing to stroke Torn's red hair absentmindedly, Erol cupped his chin in his other hand and stared at the peaceful form of Jak.

What was going to happen to him…to _them_?

Author notes: Wow, this one to an unconceivable amount of time to get out, ne? My computer crashed for about a month—maybe more—and I just got it back with all the files a couple days ago, so now I'm working on everything! How was this chapter? Gomen ne for the wait! uu; please leave a review?


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